The day I grew up

I do not know how to explain to anyone what it's like being a military mom, specifically a Marine mom. I could try, but this is the type of thing that, unless you've lived it, you have no idea. But picture this: you are a young single mother at 20, living with your dad and your son. He is everything; he is your life, he lights up all the rooms, and he is so smart. He also looks exactly like you. His father isn't really in his life, and you are all he has. You work nonstop to try and give him a good life, but you always fall short. Yet, he never falls short of showing you love all the time because you are his world, and he is yours. Then one day, years later, someone takes him, says you cannot contact him for 3 months. He will be about 4 states away in not very good conditions, a place that has a terrible reputation, and you have no idea if he's strong enough to survive what he's about to endure. The worst part is you'll have no way to know unless you get a call or a knock at the door.

Did it hurt?

Ill be fine

I come from a military family; every single male in my family in every generation has served in a branch of the armed forces. We are not the type that only does one branch and one branch only; we do them all. My dad was in the Navy, my grandfather and great-grandfather were in the Army, a bunch of cousins served in the Army and Navy, another cousin of mine served in the Navy, and my brother Rob served in the Air Force. So I sort of expected my kid to join, but he seemed pretty against it. His IQ is in the 97th percentile; he could do anything, and he has a paid way through any college he wanted. His senior year, I started to ask more about what his plans were. He said he wasn't sure. I told him he could live with me forever, but he didn't like that idea, of course. He was leaning towards becoming an electrician, and I supported that. Then in May, a month before graduation, I was cleaning, and he came up to me and told me, "A recruiter will be coming over tomorrow to talk to you." I stopped dead and was like, "What? What do you mean? A recruiter for what?" and he said, "The Marines." I was like, "Oh man, okay, listen, I said I would always support you, and I do, just know that, but maybe the Army or Navy is more suitable?" No, he wanted the Marines; he wanted the hardest branch and the toughest branch. He wanted to challenge himself. Also, I had no say, he told me, so it was happening; he didn't ask me.

Dress Blues

When that recruiter came over, I never had a man in dress blues in my house calling me ma'am. I was taken aback and happy. So we did talk, but I made it clear I know how the military works, so there's nothing he could say to make it seem not as bad. I straight up told my son, "You need to listen to me. This isn't a normal job. You sign up, and you go, that's it. You are there, there's no way out. If you leave, you will go to jail. Do you understand? This will be your life now." He understood, he said. The recruiter gave me a paper to sign so they could get his information. Right before signing it, I told him, "This is a big choice, I hope you understand that." He was worried I wasn't going to sign, and I said, "I told you since you were a baby I would support whatever you do, and that's what I'm doing," and I signed. I signed for a job I did not ask for.

Im just the mom

I felt like that, it didn't really affect me emotionally too much. I did worry a little, but we had 3 months to get used to the idea, and we did. I spent time with the recruiter, got to know him, and asked him questions. I made sure my son was okay with going, and he was so excited he couldn't wait to graduate boot camp. So the day comes for him to leave. We drive him to the recruiter's office, and he explained everything: what company he will be in, how to find out his platoon, which would be very important, and what the colors were, yellow and red, also very important.

The Airport Goodbye

We got to the airport and met him there. He was in the USO room with a few others. We spent some time together, but it wasn't much. I gave him a hug and said, "I love you. I'll see you when you graduate. Please write me when you can, and please, for the love of God, be safe." And he said he will and that he loved me. He said goodbye to his stepdad, my mom, my sister, and his two sisters. I remember watching him walk up the stairs to the USO room one last time. That would be the last time I would see him in three very long, very dark, very hard months.

I was not built for this

I remember darkness. That's about it. The first month he was gone, it was bad. I knew I was suffering. I had my medication increased, but it did not take the pain away; nothing did. I had no idea where he was except that it was South Carolina. I had no idea what he was doing, if he was okay, if he was cold or hungry. I did not talk to anyone. I had no expression on my face, and I just sat on the couch editing photos over and over again. One day, it got to be too much. I don't know what set me off. Was it the noise in our small house? Was it the fact that everyone was ignoring how I was dying inside? I don't know, but I had to get out. I was suffocating in sadness. I just left, didn't say a word to anyone, got in my car, and went to the very last place we were together. It was the park, for a fire convention. They were having a party, and we were looking at the full moon, talking about his future. Now, instead, I am in my car, in the dark with a half moon and alone. Thinking about my future, if I would even survive this, if it was worth surviving, living every day on a single hope there would be a letter in the mail or some sign of him being okay. I really did let the darkness swallow me. Then I cried, and I cried, and I cried so hard. I screamed, I punched the steering wheel, and just kept saying, why did I let him go? I cried for a good 30 minutes before my husband called and asked where I was. I went back when I was okayish. I still didn't really talk or do anything.

Waiting is the hardest part

A full month passed and I heard nothing. I never got anything about his platoon or anything, so I called his recruiter, desperate, and he told me he is there; he just wasn't able to call me for some reason and gave me his platoon number. I really felt better after that. But I was still dragging, and I really needed some help, but it was like I was screaming underwater.

I found my Tribe

I remember the recruiter telling me to connect with other military families; it would help so much. So I went to Facebook and joined all the groups. I started to talk to everyone about my feelings and such, and everyone was relating to me, and it felt so good. I thought the best way to get to my son was to find parents who were in the same company as him, and I found one. They were in different platoons but the same company, which means they started and would finish the same day. Connecting with her helped so much; when we both were down and out, we would help each other live. Then I dug deeper, and I found a few with the same platoon; now this is as close as it gets. We all decided to make a group chat with the Marine Mom friends we had. So we did that; there were like 8 of us, and 5 of us all had the same company, and 3 of us had the same platoon. So my first Marine mom friend, her son ended up dropping, and he was sent home due to some health issue, but we kept her in the group, so now it was 4 instead of 5. We decided everyone who had the same company (we had 2 girls who were a company behind) would write each other's boys, telling them who our own son was. We knew the ones in the same platoon would probably look at each other like what the heck is going on. They had no idea we all connected.

Graduate

We didn't have the money to go to South Carolina, so Amanda, one of my Marine mom friends whose son shares the platoon with mine, offered to pay and let me stay with her. The day we left for graduation was in December, and I was so excited. All that sadness turned into pure excitement. We drove off; this was my first time driving across the country, and I was excited to see everything. We met Amanda in West Virginia because she was coming from Ohio. We stayed a night there, then headed to SC in the morning. We were all so beyond excited; I couldn't wait to see him and everything he learned. I imagined our first hug and everything. We got to NC and felt a huge temperature change; it was like 60 degrees. We went from 40 to 60, and it was nice. After getting gas, we got into SC, and the Spanish moss was everywhere. It just added so much beauty to Beaufort. I was just looking in total awe. We were staying in Beaufort, which is on the other side of Parris Island, where they were. Parris Island is the base where all the USMC recruits train; it's pretty famous.

I could go on and on about the experience, but what's important to know is that on family day, which was a day before graduation, we got to see them, and that hug when he grabbed me because he saw me first was just so amazing and unreal. I was crying. And the graduation, seeing those boys and girls do their thing and how much they have grown. It was that moment, with my son in the car, sleeping in the back seat on our way back north, that all that pain, all that agony was for.

I had to learn to let go; that was the hardest lesson I ever encountered in my life. He had to learn to not depend on me anymore, and neither of us liked that. We both were vulnerable, but we survived, and boot camp honestly made me grow so much. I became so much stronger because of it. Yeah, I may have been signed into a job I did not ask for or want, but it's my life now, and my life has totally changed since we became an active duty military family. And now I try and help others through the same thing, because the transition has to be the hardest.

Semper Fi